


It's No Mystery

by pook



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pook/pseuds/pook
Summary: A post-Endgame story from Beverly Crusher’s POV, the crew receive their final medical examinations.





	It's No Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> The magnificent Shayenne has written a sequel to this piece and it's called ‘[His Mark](http://www.koffeeklub.net/shayenne/hismark.htm)‘

“Commander Chakotay, you can get dressed now. Come to the office when you’re ready.” I turn off the biobed and walk over to the office to begin my analysis of the results. Stifling a yawn, I stretch my neck. I’m tired after such a long day doing the same tests over and over. It’s a little boring but necessary. Starfleet Medical has ordered that the entire Voyager crew to undergo a thorough medical examination before they’re allowed to start their leave and this has been my fourteenth straight examination.

All of the patients I’ve seen are healthy, physically and psychologically. It’s a testament to the resilience of the crew. Despite their differing backgrounds, they all seem to be very close. Some of them talk about their crewmates with a wonderful reverence. They’re much more like family than a typical Starfleet crew. Many people would’ve been so distraught at the situation and chucked in the towel. I’m not sure how I would’ve coped being 70,000 light years from home, facing the unknown at every turn.

The EMH’s final report to Starfleet Medical detailed the effects of their journey. Most of the crew had been wounded many times and their injuries were consistent with space travel in a hostile environment but there were also a high number of ballistic and sharp edge weapon wounds that I’ve only seen in history books or with Klingons. Shuddering, I remember their EMH had explaining that most of these injuries occurred in one four week period, three years ago. Voyager had been taken over by a race who had made the crew battle for their lives, many times over in different scenarios on the Holodeck. Despite all of that, I’m amazed that so far I haven’t had to recommend any further treatment. Grudgingly, I realize this is due, in most part, to Voyager’s EMH. Although, I didn’t like the EMH system, he’s proven to be an excellent and caring doctor. His extensive medical records for all the crew that I’ve seen today is proof of his thoroughness even if he’s less than impressed that Medical has informed him that he isn’t to take part in the physicals. This is standard practice for returning deep space missions, yet I can understand why the EMH is upset because the first time it happened to me it felt like my ability as a doctor was being judged.

I look up as Voyager’s First Officer enters my office and gesture for him to sit down. I’ve just finished reviewing the data and glance up to see him trying to hide his smile. He was trying very hard to be professional but you just can’t hide that kind of happiness. Is it due to the Maquis’ exoneration or the fact that the entire debriefing ordeal is nearly over? Both are probably true. Deanna’s report showed he seemed to have coped as well as expected with everything and the medical data confirmed what I could see.

“Commander, you are physically fit. No old injuries that require any further treatment.” I smile, “Even the counsellors are happy.”

“Thank you, Doctor Crusher.”

Not for the first time I watch him glance at the clock on the wall. He looks like he’s itching to leave.

“Is there anything else?”

Grinning, I look at him looking at the clock. He wants to leave and I can’t blame him. “No, Starfleet Personnel says you’re free to go after you pass the medical, which you have.” I give him a PADD. “On this PADD are all the details of your leave, contact details of your liaison officer and counsellors if you need them, credit allowances etc.” I quickly confirm his last known address and immediately feel sorry for the man. The Cardassians and the Dominion had overrun the Dorvan system during the war. No wonder the man resigned from Starfleet and joined the Maquis. Deanna has recommended, and I agree, that even if they are not from Earth, they need to have someone and somewhere to stay, at least until transport can be arranged to their home planet. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

“I’m staying at an old friend’s place by a lake here in North America and then I’ll play it by ear.”

I nodded. “Goodbye and welcome home, Commander.”

“Thanks again, Doctor.”

I watch as he leaves my office. Lucky man. After today, I could use six months leave. I must be getting old.

Calling up the name of my last patient, I groan loudly. Captain Janeway. I hate giving medicals to captains. They answer ‘I’m fine’ to every question. I practically have to drag Jean-Luc down to Sickbay to have one. What is it about a fourth pip that means if someone sees them in Sickbay, they think their invincibility or larger than life persona is going to disappear? They’re a stubborn, determined, and pig-headed bunch but I’m in no doubt that those are the same qualities Captain Janeway would’ve needed on the long journey back home.

After calling up the captain’s records, I shake my head and I’m glad I’m sitting down. Multiple bone fractures, sword cuts, gun shot wounds, phaser burns and concussive blast injuries as well as snake and insect bites, and even an alien possession. You find many of these injuries in most frontline officers but not generally all in the one person. I close my eyes when I read the next subheading. Near full Borg assimilation. My God! I wonder how she managed to survive let alone remain functional. It took Jean-Luc many months to recover fully from his assimilation with all the best care Starfleet Medical could provide. She’d had none of that. I skim through her last physical done by the EMH six months ago. Everything appears to be relatively normal except for the usual captain-like symptoms of too little sleep, food, and relaxation and too much stress.

Deanna’s report on her was positive considering the never-ending demands of command over such a sustained period. Deanna was pleased that Janeway admitted freely two or three times where she almost broke but with the help of her two most senior officers she’d managed to pull herself back from the brink. With no counsellor on board, the crew seemed to find ways of talking through their problems and helping one another. 

It’s time to look professional for Starfleet’s latest hero. Straightening my lab coat, I tuck the stray lock of hair behind my ear and walk out to the waiting area. Deanna told me not to call her ‘Ma’am’. She apparently doesn’t like it. Neither do I. I’ve always preferred ‘Doctor’ or my rank, but I’m not the type to go out of my way to say how I’d like to be addressed. Maybe it’s the fourth pip factor again.

I wait patiently while Captain Janeway says her goodbyes to a Vulcan male. I think it’s Commander Tuvok and when she gives him a hug, I find it hard not to smile. I can see how uncomfortable he is but he tolerates the un-Vulcan like body contact with grace.

“Captain Janeway, my name is Commander Crusher. Please follow me.” I gesture for the captain to follow me through to the examination room. Again, I can see the obvious happiness on her face like all the other crewmembers I’ve seen.

“Yes, doctor. Hmm …Crusher? You were on the Enterprise, weren’t you?”

“Yes, captain. I still am.” I turned on the biobed and recalibrated the settings.

“Under Captain Picard?”

“That’s right.” I can sense she’s trying to be polite and make small talk, but I can tell she really wants to be somewhere else, especially when she looks at the clock on the wall just as Commander Chakotay had done. I don’t blame them for wanting to be somewhere else. “Captain, please get undressed and lie down on the biobed. We’ll get this over with as quickly as possible.” 

After she lies on the biobed, I start the deep body scan. The general physiological data coming through is all normal, including her weight, blood pressure, heart rate, respiration, and stress levels. The computer then begins the in-depth analysis of each body system. Nothing major so far has been flagged by the system except for something in thoracic spinal region which appears to be due to her assimilation by the Borg. The EMH has prevented most of the scar tissue forming after her various injuries except an area running down her spine where the Borg spinal clamp had been. Most of the damage appears adjacent and or involves the internal structure of the vertebrae and nerve bundles. The Doctor had been unable to fix the damage without causing possible loss of the use of her legs and so he’d developed a physiotherapy program that strengthened the muscles around the area and that alleviated the majority of her symptoms. It was a tricky area to fix and only in the past year has Dr Reen’s team developed the first real treatment for this kind of injury.

“Captain, your EMH told you he was unable to remove all the scar tissue from your spine after your Borg assimilation. We have a new procedure and if you wish we can repair the damage to prevent any discomfort you might be feeling.”

“Occasionally I feel a twinge but I haven’t felt bad back pain for more than a year. The Doctor said it wouldn’t affect my legs if he did nothing. Has that changed?”

“Not at the moment but it could in the future. There could be complications especially if you injure that area of your back. I would recommend getting the problem fixed before you go into space again.” I watch as Janeway rubs her chin as she thinks about what I’ve said, but I can tell she’s going to put it off. Who in their right mind would spend their first week of real leave in seven years motionless in a hospital bed?

“How long will that take?”

“For a scar that size and the tissue involved, approximately two days to synthesize the different cell types and two days to ensure the procedure has worked. You would be in hospital for five days all together. We can start as soon as we’re finished here, if you would like.”

“No. I’ll get it fixed towards the end of my leave.”

I’m amazed at how similar this woman is to Jean-Luc. She quickly weighed up the facts and made a decision. “Yes, captain. I’ll arrange for the surgeon to contact you in about four months.”

I return to the scan results. The computer has identified only one other area. It reports there is a high level of a common carbon based ink material located in a small area just to the right of her left breast. The scan shows its size and shape. Even though the exact chemical composition is harmless, the computer even recommended the best way to remove it.

Looking closely at the object, I smile to myself, because I realize that the small dark blue tattoo is identical to the stylised bird feather tattoo on Chakotay’s forehead. Well, well. The plot thickens. I haven’t seen it on the other members of the crew, both Maquis and Starfleet, so it wasn’t some Voyager badge of honour. I scratch my nose and think about it as the computer finishes the scans. These were the two senior officers for seven years straight. They’d have to have forged some sort of personal relationship to survive their journey. The captain hadn’t had a counsellor to turn to and so they must’ve confided in one another.

Then it hit me. Of course, I’m an idiot. Picard and Riker have shared a similarly long professional relationship under some pretty dire situations as well but I know they don’t share a tattoo. I’ve seen my fair share of couples come together during war or prolonged stress. Chakotay was tall, dark, and handsome with a warm smile and I can see what the captain would see in him. The tattoo looks very much like a symbol of love. Was it fulfilled or unrequited? I don’t know. Maybe I’m being incredibly sappy and an incurable romantic in my old age but it’s no wonder both of them want to get out of here as quickly as possible. Have they been in a romantic relationship for a long time, but have tried to remain purely professional while the debriefings were going on, or is it that they’ve waited for their return to the Alpha Quadrant? Who knows? Who cares? From what I’ve heard of their journey, if they found comfort in each other from the almost daily horrors that they faced then, good on them.

I have tried to ignore the press and their mostly infantile speculation on the real relationship between the two senior officers. I haven’t seen them together except on FNN when they fronted the Board of Inquiry together for the final verdict. All I saw were two very professional looking Starfleet officers who share a strong bond of friendship and comradeship similar to most of the captain and first officer relationships I’ve ever known. If they’ve been in a romantic relationship then it was very discreet because they never let it slip, going as far as shaking hands at the final verdict when you might think they’d have hugged.

Well, I’m not going to stand in the way of love.

I download the data into my tricorder. “Captain, I’ve finished the examination. Please get dressed and then come to the office.”

I walk to the office and sit down to go through the rest of the results. Reviewing the results once more, I can see everything is normal. I’m still amazed at how the captain has travelled through unknown space and battled aliens almost every day to emerge virtually unscathed.

I look up to see Captain Janeway sit down opposite me. “Captain, with Commander Troi’s report and my medical report, I’m pleased to say you have passed the physical with the proviso that you get treatment for your back before you’re permitted to go into space again. I have noted this on your medical records. I have also noted that you want to do the procedure at the end of your leave. This should satisfy the powers that be.” I hear a sigh of relief escape from her lips.

“Thank you, Doctor Crusher.”

I pass her a PADD and for the fifteenth time, I go through details from Starfleet Personnel. “On this PADD are the details of your leave, your liaison officer’s contact details, as well as counsellors if you need those, credit allowances and the like.” I look up the captain’s last known address. Unfortunately, that building was destroyed in the Breen attack during the Dominion War. “I’m required to ask if you have somewhere to go once you finish here.”

“I’m going to go to my mom’s place in Indiana for a short time and then I plan to do nothing much at all for a long time at a lakeside place my family owns.”

I try to hide my surprise when she says ‘lake’. That’s what Chakotay had said. Was it a coincidence? I want to think it isn’t. I’m a happy-ending type of person so it would be wonderful for them to be together. They deserve happiness after such a long and arduous trial.

“That’s all I needed to know. You’re free to go now, Captain.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“My pleasure, Captain, and welcome home.”

I watch the captain practically leap out of the chair and head out of the office. Sighing, as it reminds me of Jack’s leaves and how we couldn’t wait to be together again. I was always jumping out of my skin, waiting impatiently, trying to will the official procedures to go faster. Just like my last two patients.

I save the report and send it off to Medical then shut down the computer and biobed. After one last check of the room, to make sure everything is fine, I turn off the lights and leave the building. Heading for home, I have a broad smile on my face. I must’ve absorbed some the Voyager crew’s happiness because I don’t feel tired anymore. As I walk into the Transporter station, I’m elated but unable to share what I’ve seen today with my friends. I decide I will write a letter to Wes telling him of my wonderful day. He’ll get it, but I hope he won’t take six weeks to answer like he did with the last letter I wrote. He said some multi-dimensional focal point in the universe that only happens once every four million years had distracted him. “Teenagers!” I scoff to myself as the beam takes hold.


End file.
